POLLY
My body was panting, "He's hot. Can we have him?" while my mind was screaming, "Oh, dear God, what the hell are you thinking?”
Samantha Young,Down London Road
Ryla and Max were all smiles when I put them to bed. They loved their new hair colors, and frankly, so did I. Sure, it would wash out in a week, but every time I saw the lavender tips of my hair, a flush of giddiness filled me. It was convenient that the kids were distracted by the excitement of the day because I couldn’t focus on a god damn thing. I repeated the same sentence twice while reading a book to Ryla at bedtime, then trailed off in the middle of a relaxation exercise with Max.
My heart was pounding as I walked to Jace’s room later that night. I knocked lightly on the door, receiving no answer.
He was probably asleep. I should let him rest. But what if his rash was worse?
Maybe you can nurse him back to health,purred the cheeky twenty-four-year-old inside of me.
After a quick debate, I opened the door. The curtains on the far side of the room were pulled back and the full moon cast a soft light around the room, tempering the shadows.
Jace was asleep, in the same position I’d left him two hours ago. My lips quirked as Jace quietly snored, even and deep. The cloth over his eyes felt warm, so I removed it and checked his forehead. The rash had faded significantly and there was less swelling around his eyes. After rinsing the cloth with cold water in the bathroom, I laid it back over his eyes causing Jace to stir.
“Shh. It’s me,” I whispered, sitting beside him. “How are you feeling?”
“Looadss better.” Jace’s sexy Tennessee drawl was more pronounced than normal due to the sleep or Benadryl, I wasn’t sure which. He lifted the cloth and squinted toward me. “What timess it?”
“Just after eight, the kids are sleeping. I wanted to come check on you.”
“Thanksss,” he slurred again as I smothered a laugh.
“Benadryl hits you hard, huh?” I asked, a strange shaky feeling building in my chest.
“Dunno. First times I tried it.”
“It’s a good thing I have off tomorrow. Who knew that you could be felled by a first-generation antihistamine?” I teased, making a move to stand. He reached for my hand, like he’d done that afternoon and I reached back, letting him.
“You leavin’ me alone?”
“You needin’ company?” I returned boldly.
Stupidly.
He smirked, letting my hand go and placing the cloth back over his eyes, letting me know he had more awareness than his slurring suggested.
“Least you could do. Wasn’tmyhair dye.” He blindly patted the bed next to him in . . . invitation?
I swallowed nervously as I walked around the bed. My hands were shaking. “Bringing out the big guns, huh? Guilt! You sure you’re not a parent?”
Incredibly conscious of every dip of the bed as I crawled next to him, I finally settled on my back beside him.
I was sure the pounding of my heart was audible, but Jace’s peaceful, even breathing set a rhythm that finally calmed my racing heart. Over time, small things came into focus: the downy softness of the coverlet beneath us, the heat from Jace’s body radiating into my side, the texture of the linen canopy above the bed.
Jace was so quiet, I thought he’d fallen asleep until he asked, “Was the deal with belshin waffles?”
His question surprised me. I found myself searching for an appropriate answer when I realized there was no need to search. With Jace, there was no need to tailor my response; I merely needed to tell the truth.
“I ordered them today.”
“Good choiss.”
“It’s the first time I ordered something I actually wanted in front of my father. Maybe, ever. Over the years I’d learned what my father expected of me in public. With clothes it was nothing revealing, demure colors and high necklines only. I bought the dress I wore today on a whim months ago, never thinking I’d get the opportunity to wear it. Turns out, the world didn’t end with my father’s derision.”
Jace was still, but I knew he was listening.
